When I was little, every once in a while my mother would pack me, my sister, and whatever foreign exchange student we had at the time into the car and take us on a magical mystery tour. Sometimes we would leave super early in the morning. Sometimes she would announce at lunch that we were all to get in the car. She would never tell us where we were heading.
If it was an overnight trip, she would give us a list of things to pack. Like a swim suit, an outfit for the theatre, and clothes we could get muddy. We’d never know which of the things we’d really need. She just did it to throw us off the scent. We were allowed to guess at where we were going, but she’d never answer.
And then we’d end up at a state park or outdoor theatre. Sometimes we’d have a picnic. And once we ended up in Canada. But it was always a wonderful adventure.
I turn the big 3-0 tomorrow. I know, I’m old as poop. And have accomplished nothing with my life. I’ve wasted thirty years, and I will leave no mark on this earth. Please excuse my yearly birthday freak out.
But aside from my lack of life accomplishments. My husband is taking me on a magical mystery tour for my birthday. I know we’ll be camping. I know we’re leaving late tomorrow night. But that’s it! I have no idea where I’ll be for my Birthday! It’s a little terrifying, and I love it!
On a psychotic side note, for some reason getting 500 likes on my author Facebook page before I’m officially over the hill somehow seems really important. Maybe it’s because Facebook keeps asking why I haven’t accomplished this yet.
So, help me with my crazy Birthday wish, and help an aging author reach her social media goal. I’ll feel young and hip. In with them cool kids. And able to compete with the whippersnappers.
But seriously, y’all. Thanks for being a part of my madness. You are all beautiful and wonderful!